Saturday, January 28, 2017

Rainbow Snippet Jan. 28

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.




I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  Changing things up a bit. I had been posting snippets from ...And All Shall Fade, but that is entering into Edit stage this week and preparation for submission, so for the foreseeable future, I will be posting snippets from Ryker and Jesse's as yet unnamed story. This is a rough WIP featuring a bodyguard and a rocker. Takes place shortly after the phone call between Jesse and Kyle regarding Ryker's presence. 

 God this was all kinds of fucked, there was no way he could be stuck up here with a stranger for four months.  Lasting through the storm was going to try every bit of his patience and calm especially when one of the voice in his head was screaming for him to get the hell out of there and the other was berating him for not slitting his fuckin’ arm open when he had the chance. The memories flashing through his head were threatening to send him headlong into panic mode.  He took a long drag and closed his eyes, hoping they’d leave him alone.  The wind reached a helacious crescendo, howling like a furious banshee and he shuddered as the echo of curses and threats crashed like angry rhinos through his mind. He’d come up here to escape this, not relive it.  He lit a second cigarette after he finished the first, singing softly to himself as a hopeful distraction.  It failed and he trudged back inside when he was done, caught a whiff of something sizzling in the kitchen and his mouth and watered, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten yet this evening.  It would just have to wait until the kitchen was vacant. 


For additional snippets from other pieces of work, scroll down through the blog and enjoy. 

Friday, January 27, 2017

Friday Flash: Featuring Asher from Guitars and Cages

So each Friday I will be posting a flash fiction piece featuring a character from one of y previously released novels, These flashes are not going to be found anywhere else but on the blog. They won't make it into any sequels they are just a glimpse inside the character's world in a time that falls outside of the timeline in the novel. Some might come before the start of the novel, some might take place during and some after. Lengths will vary, depending on how much/loud they are speaking but I thought it would be fun to touch base with some of my old favorites and see what they were up to.

I apologize in advance if this went a little dark. It would fall between Guitars and Cages and the upcoming release Guitars and Cages: Ranch Days. It would have only been a few days since the end of Guitars and Cages and Asher is still struggling to process it all.



In hindsight, leaving the bar was stupid. Morgan wouldn’t have been upset with me for waking him, not if I’d explained about the restless energy and the nightmares and the way everything sort of tilted sideways as soon as I shut my eyes. I hated relying on anyone though, or maybe it was the idea of getting used to relying on someone else that I hated, knowing that person could be gone in an instant, or worse, turn my secrets against me.

Deep down, I knew the fear was irrational. I was safer with Morgan than I’d ever been with my own father, and it stung knowing that he wasn’t, that I was Jack’s. At least now I knew I came by my temper honestly, and my hate. I wasn’t sure if it was shame or just habit that had me wandering towards the docs where Catfish’s warehouse club used to be. There was little left but debris and ashes, echoes of those nights when I’d knelt for him or let him touch me in ways that made me squirm, even if they’d turned my stomach.

Sometimes I wish I could have felt something for him besides gratitude and revulsion. A connection would have made it better, or at least, it would have made it seem more normal. Kinda stupid though, expecting normal in my life. I close my eyes and I can still hear the music and the dull thud of fists on flesh. I shivered at the ghostly feel of his fingers in my hair, brushing along the nape of my neck. I tried to imagine that it was Conner, then shoved the thought away, not wanting to dirty this crazy, hesitant thing we have between us with something so filthy as him toughing me.

The river stretched wide and ugly between this point and the sparkling lights on the other side. The smell of it made me wrinkle my nose and I told myself again I should be in bed, with the blankets wrapped around me and my music in my ears, Alexia curled at my back, still holding on as tight as she had the day we nearly lost her over the railing of the bar.

I can’t fix it, not for me, not for her, not for Cole, none of them would be here now if I hadn’t needed them. She could have kept her secret a little bit longer and maybe I’d have managed to leave the city behind me, left Rory safe with Morgan and a chance at a normal childhood rather than the fucked up insanity that is my life.


I’m trying to change, honest I am, but the guy I see in the mirror is still a thug, still an asshole. For every step I take away from my old life, I feel more and more like I’m just pretending and one day the mask is gonna crack and remind them all that they shouldn’t have tried so hard to save me. Some broken things just aren’t meant to be put back together again. 

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Wednesday Word Vomit



I love words, but it dawned on me recently that my word pool had grown stagnant. Instead of mixing things up during the writing process, I’ve found myself forced to make the changes during edit, turning an already daunting process into an excruciating one. So as part of my efforts to exact some positive changes in 2017, I am introducing a new feature to Rainbow Lyrics and Mellow Mushrooms.

Every Wednesday I’ll take the word of the day from www.wordsmith.org and use it to craft a scene/setting/dialogue for one of my current works in progress.

Today’s word: ineffable
Today’s WIP: Rockin’ Ryker’s World

Ryker stared at the closed door, listening to the soft guitar chords that drifted out into the hall. Lingering echoes of his nightmare jackknifed through his mind in bright flashes and metal tossed so high it obscured the sun. Gritting his teeth, he tried not to brush his hands down his arms, seeking the phantom dirt and blood his mind insistently screamed was clinging to his skin.

You’re not there anymore, you’re here, you’re safe.

He whispered it over and over, a mantra, a prayer for peace that fell into rhythm with the heartbreakingly haunting notes Jesse was wringing from the guitar. He wished he could shove the door open, crawl across the floor, press his front to Jesse’s back, wrap his arms around his body, bury his nose in Jesse’s hair and breathe in his scent. Anything to ground himself.

The bathroom after Jesse’s showers always smelled like rain in the forest, woody, earthy, taking Ryker back to a time before he’d left Vermont. Home. Jesse smelled like home and all Ryker wanted in that moment was to get closer. Replace the guitar in Jesse’s lap with his head and cling there until the last of the nightmares were gone.

Instead, he slid down the wall, fingers gripping his hair so tight he could feel his fingertips pressing into his scalp. Behind his mind everyone was still screaming, he was still screaming into the com, ineffable horrors  taking place around him. Squeezing his eyes shut he willed them away. Told himself to focus on the music and the soft tenor of Jesse’s voice singing along.

Breathe in
Breathe out

You’re not there anymore, you’re here, you’re safe.


Jesse’s lilting voice rose above the chaos crashing through his mind, wrapping around him, helping him to keep his breathing even. Resting his head against the door, he focused on Jesse singing, wishing he was on the other side where it wasn’t so lonely and cold. 

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Teaser Tuesday Jan 23

From my WIP:  Rockin' Ryker's World



“Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you but from what I saw up here he looked strung out Maybe he isn’t one to hurt the music but he doesn’t seem to care too much about hurting himself.”

                                  -Ryker to his cousin Kyle regarding Kyle's band mate Jesse


Rockin' Ryker's World is shaping up to be a rocker/bodyguard romance featuring some band feels, a bit of angst, a stalker ex-boyfriend, an ex-soldier with a protective streak, and a guitarist who needs to learn that not all relationships are destined to end in misery. 

Monday, January 23, 2017

Monday Musings: Creative Spaces

I’m one of those writers who can write anywhere. Bus trips cross country-check. Tailgate by the creek-check. Subway platform-double check, one for the amazing character potential and another for the crazy things one might see. Coffee shops-love ‘em. Amtrac station-perfect, even when it’s DC and I’m there for 24 hours. Hockey arena stands while the youngest is taking figure skating lessons – you betcha, it keeps the chatty Kathy’s away. I just plug in the ear buds and let the music carry me away, drowning out everything but the sound of the characters. Having the ability to get lost in my writing makes working on the go easier.  I’ve worked on novels at football games, waiting rooms, museum trips, even jotted down notes while taking a tour of a cave. My notebook is never far from my fingers, but nothing in the world compares to having my own solitary creative space to retreat to.

In a house that up until recently contained five people (we’re down to four now that the oldest has moved out) it isn’t always easy to find a quiet space that isn’t high traffic. Setting up in the living room works during school hours, is okay, as long as no one stops by, the phone doesn’t ring incessantly, and no one lingers on the way through seeking conversation. Unfortunately, at least one, if not all of those things is the norm in my living room, which makes it a less than ideal space.



The same reasons also cancels out the sitting room, though I love the space dearly, especially when all of the lights and candles are going. My studio, in winter is also less than ideal, though for ¾ of the year it is the ideal place to work. I’ve long since decided that within my own home it’s the best I can hope for, at least until the last spawn graduates, and even then, I live with two other adults, so there is that.

The studio is in the attic of a 100 year old house, and the insulation is certainly in need of replacement. It’s on the list, hopefully within in the next three years I can get that done and add a sort of finished look with some plywood and paint. Until then, I’ve done my level best to make it as perfect of a working space for me as I can. Considering that it isn’t just writing I do, but digital art, that’s made for a few challenges, like placing the art desk and setting up a low writing table that can double for graphics work. Still, I’ve come to realize that there were a few key elements that while small, also made it perfect.

My keys to a successful creative space

Candles
Music (generally a playlist to fit the mood and theme of each story)
Low/soft lighting
Isolated location
Few to no distractions ie. Not being able to see things that I think I should be doing.
Comfortable chair
Warm, fuzzy blanket in cool months
Fan in warm months
Writing supplies on hand for minimal movement
Snacks and drinks readily available
Lack of clock or clock is obscured from view
Window to occasionally gaze out of
Corkboard or notebook full of inspiring saying and images (photos, magazine clippings postcards, ect.)

Having set up my in-home work space, I quickly realized that I needed something I could take on the road, a bag that was always packed, supplies carefully kept in the truck, something that would allow me to work from wherever I decided to wander, especially when the weather was nice. I finally decided that the perfect mobile creative space was my pickup truck. 



Between the roomy cab and the bed, I had plenty of room to work with no matter the situation, and on the road, I quickly realized that I needed far less comforts than home to make things perfect. My ideal creative traveling space only needs the following:

Music
Notebooks and office supplies (mini laptop optional)
Snacks/drinks
Comfortable blanket and clothing

Not bad, really, when I really started to think about just how much time I spend on back roads and by the woods.

Over the years, I’ve tried to set schedules, maintain word counts, establish goals and achieve them, and having both creative spaces has been key to making that possible. On a busy day, I can sneak in bits of note taking, researching and writing in between daily chores, but there’s nothing like being able to sit down in a comfortable, comforting, inspiring space and just get to work.

 I’d love it if readers would share pictures of their creative spaces. Here's my ideal one. I would love to live in a cabin somewhere up here. 





Sunday, January 22, 2017

Sunday Poetry Corner Jan 22

Hi, and welcome to the first Sunday Poetry Corner. I thought it would be fun to share a bit of what I write when I'm not working on stories. Poetry was my first real introduction to writing. It taught me how much joy could be found in playing with words. There are so many times when the voices of my characters bleed over into the poems that I write and more than once, a poem has inspired a story because the voice refused to fade away.

Please feel free to leave comments, and if you feel like it, you're more than welcome to share a poem of your own. For my fellow poetry lovers out there, I would love to know who your favorite poet is, and maybe a little bit of why you like them. I'm always looking for a new poet to read.

My favorites are a toss up too close for me to decide if I actually like one over the other. The first, Robert Frost, connected with my love of nature and wild places, while the second, Jim Morrison, spoke to all the twisted rambles and dark corridors in my mind. They sit side by side on the bookcase shelf beside Dylan Thomas, Emily Dickinson, and Lord Byron.

I hope you enjoy this first installment of the Sunday Poetry Corner. Without further ado, please let me present this weeks poem:

Of Dreams and Ruined fireflies

Chain smoking dreams on the hood of my car
We paint dragons in smoke against an azure sky
Waiting for the stars to chase the sun from too bright heavens
Everything sparkles a little different after dark
Tattered edges of glittery wings hide the fray in swirling neon
We feign amusement in face of scorn
Crawl home and puke our sins in porcelain bowls
The dregs of last night’s misery oozing from our pours
There’s no escaping the long shadows that creep across our lives
Shadowing the fall of all we once held dear
Is there no end to the pantomime of life we endure?
This silent, black and white movie
making us laugh at the broken clown
ashes fall like ruined fireflies
a rain of white against tanned skin
What careful disassembly of life the fire brings
Reducing form to a barely recognizable mold, like our dreams
The whispers of them still echo on nights like there
When we lay beneath ancient moons

remembering all we’d hoped to be




Saturday, January 21, 2017

Snippet Jan 21

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.




I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  Changing things up a bit. I had been posting snippets from ...And All Shall Fade, but that is entering into Edit stage this week and preparation for submission, so for the foreseeable future, I will be posting snippets from Ryker and Jesse's as yet unnamed story. This is a rough WIP featuring a bodyguard and a rocker. Comes shortly after Ryker forced his way into the cabin. 

“Fuck hello,” Jesse snapped, still pacing, rummaging in the cupboard now for one of his bottles of whiskey and a shot glass.  “You’re fuckin’ cousin just showed up here and…”

“Hey!” Kyle snapped, effectively cutting off Jesse’s tirade.  “that’s my family are talking about, have some fucin’ respect.  Now, if you would have actually answered your damned phone when it tried to reach you, you’d have known Ryker was coming.”

“What the fuck, Kyle.  I’d told you I was coming up here to be alone and write some fuckin’ music, if I had known you were gonna pull this shit I would’ve made reservations somewhere.”

“First of all, know where you could have made any reservations is a secluded is that cabin and secondly, Ryker didn’t call me until after you were already there, and frankly, he needs the solitude far more than you do.  So if you’ve got a problem sharing you can pack your shit and drive down after the storm.”

“You’re seriously kicking me out of here, where the fuck am I supposed to go?”


“Home, which you have.  My cousin doesn’t so get over yourself Jesse.  If you leave it’s your choice but Ryker staying, now put him on the phone.”


Saturday, January 14, 2017

Snippet Jan 14

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.




I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  Changing things up a bit. I had been posting snippets from ...And All Shall Fade, but that is entering into Edit stage this week and preparation for submission, so for the foreseeable future, I will be posting snippets from Ryker and Jesse's as yet unnamed story. This is a rough WIP featuring a bodyguard and a rocker. This snippet comes moments before last weeks (sorry for the out of orderness of this but this was written this past week) 


They knew him, they knew how deeply he loved the music, how it was all he had aside from them, and yet….

Did he even have them anymore?

That thought alone only served to double his pain, and all he wanted was a way to make it stop shredding his insides. The wind screamed and he raised his head, stared out the window, watched the trees wave like angry shadows across the sad gray sky. He reached towards the pillows on his makeshift bed, fingers fumbling beneath the plush overstuffed weathers, brushing against the coolness of the blade he kept tucked there. He curled his fingers around it pulled it from it hiding spot, traced the edge against his flesh, but didn’t part it. It was so tempting.

How long he sat that way, pressing the knife to his arm, body coiled for action, muscles tense, beginning to ache from being held on edge so long. 

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Snippet Jan 7

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.



I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  Changing things up a bit. I had been posting snippets from ...And All Shall Fade, but that is entering into Edit stage this week and preparation for submission, so for the foreseeable future, I will be posting snippets from Ryker and Jesse's as yet unnamed story. This is a rough WIP featuring a bodyguard and a rocker. First meeting between the pair, a little more than 6 lines but needed. 

"You must have the wrong cabin," Jesse grumbled, attempting to slam the door against the stranger and the wind. Ryker just slammed his hand against the door, pinning it in place. 

“Even in it’s the wrong cabin, which I don’t think it is, there’s a storm coming in case you hadn’t noticed, so I think I’ll just come in out of it, thanks” Ryker stated, taking a step forward and trying to wedge himself through the opening.  Jesse held firm however and they stood there glaring at one another. 

“Look,” Jesse said, “you could be a psycho or a serial killer for all I know, so you ain’t getting in here.  I’ve got enough problems without ending up dead.”

“You look,” Ryker shot back, studying the guy more intently.  Something about him just looked really damned familiar.” I’ve been on the road for hours.  It’s fucking cold out here and it’s snowing buckets.  I’m supposed to be at my cousin's cabin, which the GPS says is right here.  So here I am and I’ve got no intention of driving anywhere until the shit lets up.  My cousin's name is Kyle.”


“Morrison,” Jesse finished with a sigh.  “Yeah, this is his cabin, though it’s supposed to be my cabin for the next four months.  I fuckin’ told him when he offered it that I was coming up alone and plan to stay that way.  So why the hell would he send you up here?”




(hehehehe Why indeed)